


Watch You Weave And Breathe

by LegoTea



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-30 05:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13943889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LegoTea/pseuds/LegoTea
Summary: Gamora can't help but worry Peter will hook up with another woman behind her back. With the help of one of Rocket's inventions, she watches Peter when he goes out.





	Watch You Weave And Breathe

“I’m worried about Peter.”

Gamora kept her face resolute as Mantis, sitting cross-legged on the floor as she played with Groot, looked up in surprise, antennae twitching. It had taken a few weeks, but Gamora had finally grown comfortable in Mantis’s presence.

“Oh. Is this about his injury? The doctors on Xandar said he would heal very soon. Or, if this is about Peter playing the same song over and over for the past few days, I’m sure it’s just a –"

“– No. This has nothing to do with that.” Hands on her hips, Gamora lowered them, realizing the intimidating figure she cut against the bright lights of the ship. Beginning to pace, she continued. "I know he has....  _needs_. But I don't know if I can fulfill them. Not right now."

"You shouldn't have to,” Mantis said, and her answer was so simple, Gamora stopped pacing. "But you know what you should do?"

"What?"  Gamora asked eagerly.

"Talk to him," Mantis said, a serene smile spreading across her face.

“Oh." Gamora said, disappointed.

 

\-------

 

She volunteered to stay with Mantis and Groot while the others would go out to the local bar on the planet they had landed on. It was like most of the planets they docked at, far from the Kree’s reach.

“Yer gonna wear a hole in the floor," Rocket said as he stopped by her room, catching her as she paced back and forth again. "Here."

He handed her a pair of tiny binoculars. Curious, Gamora took them tentatively and held them up, bracing herself for a small explosion. When they didn’t blow up, she held them up to her face, peering through them.

Groot jumped into view, appearing much larger than his actual size. He’d grown in the past several weeks, but not as much as he looked through the binoculars.

He waved his arms as he tried leaping up toward the device, and she lowered it. “Rocket, I’m not going to use this to spy on Peter.”

“Call it a test run. And maybe an apology of sorts," he muttered.

Gamora knew what Rocket was apologizing for. "I.... appreciate the offer, but I can't use this," she said, crouching to offer the device to Groot, who peered through it and looked up at her. She smiled at his horrifically gigantic eyeball.

"Suit yourself,” Rocket said with a shrug, turning to leave. “C’mon Groot, need to show you what not to touch while I’m gone.”

She expected Groot to take the small binoculars with him, but he dropped them on the ground before running after Rocket.

Gamora stared down at the device.

“It would be wrong," she said out loud, even though she was alone in her room. “Peter would hate me if he ever found out.

“I shouldn’t do this.”

 

\-------

 

The first time she watched him, she couldn’t deny the mixture of exhilaration and familiarity she felt. She was used to this, camping out in a dark corner and keeping watch on a target.

 Whenever a pretty woman walked by Peter, Gamora’s pulse quickened. She expected him to turn and stare at each woman, but Peter’s eyes never strayed from the card game he was playing, or his drink. In fact, to Gamora’s surprise – disappointment? – the only women Peter interacted with was the bartender and Mantis. Gamora became less interested in the possibility of Peter’s eyes straying, and more concerned with how many drinks Mantis was consuming. After she drained her eleventh cup, she clapped wildly, and then slumped over onto Peter’s shoulder. He turned to look at her in alarm, then slid back his chair, but then Rocket jumped onto the table and seemed to get into a heated argument with Peter. They squabbled erratically for a minute or so, then Peter motioned at Drax, who circled around the table and picked up Mantis with ease, carrying her out of the bar.

Gamora realized she was supposed to be back on the ship, and she dashed out of the bar so quickly that she almost dropped Rocket’s binoculars.

It wasn’t until Gamora raced into her room, barely beating Drax and Mantis, that a wave of guilt hit her. She threw the device into her small chest of keepsakes – mostly little trinkets Groot had brought her, a large gaudy hairpin Mantis had given to her, assorted knives, and a ring Peter had awkwardly offered that was too large for any of her fingers.

She shouldn’t have been spying on him. He didn’t do anything that was untoward.

Ten minutes later, Gamora was still pacing back and forth until she heard a soft knock at her door.

“Come in,” she said, and Peter walked in, scratching the back of his head. He was swaying slightly, but she’d seen him a lot more inebriated.

“Get enough downtime?” he asked, and it took her a moment to respond. She wanted to show him the binoculars, which felt like they were burning a hole in the bottom of her chest, but instead, she nodded.

“Good. We missed you tonight, though,” he said, slurring his words a little, though he stayed at a respectable distance.

She felt a little better, now that she knew he wasn’t telling the truth – no one had looked like they really  _missed_ her, they were all engrossed in their drinks and gambling – but then she felt worse, because Peter’s lie was intended to make her feel better.  _She_  was lying to him by omission, because she didn’t want Peter to be rightfully angry with her.

“Hey, woah, you’re gonna wear a hole through the floor,” he said after a long moment of silence, and she realized she was, once again, pacing back and forth. She nearly ran into him, and stopped inches in front of his chest.

“You okay?” he asked, and she bit back a grimace as the smell of alcohol on his breath hit her.

“Yes,” she said, suddenly realizing Peter might be able to smell the scent of smoke and various perfumes from the bar all over her. “I’m going to bed now, so… goodnight.” She waved at him as she turned around and strode over to her closet, opening it and picking out her clothes for sleeping.

“Oh. Okay,” he said, sounding a little sad, but turned around and weaved his way out of her room.

Gamora sighed with relief when her door clicked shut behind him. She threw a glare over at her little chest.

 _Never again_ , she vowed to herself.

 

\-------

 

Three nights later, after a particularly harrowing escape from a Bargwardian cave that was filled with batlike creatures with poisonous teeth, Gamora skulked in an alcove of a cavernous bar that was honestly making her more unsettled than usual.

She was looking down at her group of friends as they received their drinks from one of the waiters – ironically, this place was a bit fancier than the last one, so Gamora couldn’t bring any of her knives, even through the side entrance she had to hand two of them over – which was why Groot was able to join them this time, although Gamora couldn’t help frowning and wanting to call out whenever Groot snuck a sip from one of the Guardian’s drinks when their attention was directed elsewhere.

Gamora barely had any time to watch Peter, she was so focused on Groot. The outing was cut a lot shorter than their previous one, when Groot fell over into Drax’s barrel-sized drink, and Gamora sped back to the ship as soon as Drax fished out Groot and Peter flagged down the waiter.

 

\-------

 

She told herself to stop, but it was like she couldn’t, once she started. The third time Peter went out, it was just him and Drax at a small, seedy-looking bar. Gamora knew they were there to get some information on the whereabouts of a bounty they were chasing.

She had lied to the others that she would look for the miscreant herself – a wanted fugitive who’d stolen millions of units from a small village that was generally collective and stressed sharing money with all its inhabitants – but there she was, watching Peter from afar. Even though he bumped into a couple of women, he only stopped to apologize to them – profusely, Gamora noticed, because all of them were at least twice the size of Drax.

The bar visit quickly ended in someone punching Drax, which ended in a brawl. Gamora itched to help Peter and Drax, but it would’ve blown her cover, and if things got dire, they would’ve called her on their comm link. They came back to the ship without the information they needed, but only a little battered.

 

\-------

 

The fourth time, Gamora was called on for assistance when Peter and Drax were at a party that was full of flailing, dancing drunks. She had to flee outside the club and across the street to make it sound like she wasn’t inside before she answered Peter’s third call, and he sounded frantic. She cursed herself and had to stand outside waiting for five agonizing minutes before charging into the club and helping out Peter and Drax. Incidentally, they did get the information they needed this time, but had to rest for a few days as Gamora, Rocket, and Mantis tracked down the thief, and brought him back to his home world – justice for the citizens, and a hefty amount of units for the Guardians.

Gamora swore off the binoculars for good, shoving them under her bed after she shed a few hot, angry tears at her behavior. She opted to join the team – no,  _family_  – on their next outing.

Peter offered her to dance, as always, but this time he clutched his side for a moment, and Gamora asked if he was okay.

“Yeah,” he gritten out through his teeth, “’m fine.”

They danced a bit, and Gamora was so close to telling Peter. He looked genuinely happy that she joined them on their outing, and he picked this place specifically because it was more low key and had dancing.

She vowed to stop watching him after that. She really did.

But then, as they were leaving the place, a group of women nearly  _attacked_  Peter, rushing at him almost as if they shared one mind. They pawed at him, one Centaurian woman clutching at his necklace as an A’askavariian begged him to take a picture with them.

“Woah, hey!” he shouted, nearly getting swallowed up in the group as they shrieked out, “Star-Lord!” while grabbing onto him.

Gamora dove into the fray, pulling off women and even hitting one of them in the shoulder with the butt end of her sword to repel them. It managed to work, and soon the mob dispersed, all of the women glaring at Gamora for ruining their fun.

“Peter! Are you all right?” Gamora asked, turning toward Peter after she yelled at the escaping women, threatening to rip out their spines if they dared go near him again.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, touching a small rip on his shirt. “Good thing I didn’t wear my jacket, huh?”

“I should’ve been faster,” Gamora said, as she retracted her sword and put it back in her hilt. She went toward Peter, putting her arm around him as she led him back to their ship.

“Nah, you were great. Thanks,” he said, smiling at her and making her flush, then worry as she saw a cut forming on his lip.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up with the medkit,” she said. “Even though it is practically useless.”

“Always know the best thing to say, huh?” he asked, and she rolled her eyes. He rubbed at his chin, upon which a bruise was already forming, and he winced. “Damn. How many of them  _were_  there, anyway? Had to be at least a dozen, right?”

“I wasn’t keeping score, Peter,” Gamora said, her patience running thin.

“I mean, I had a feeling we were makin’ a name for ourselves, but… wow.” He shook his head, chuckling. “Never would’a thought  _that_  would happen.”

Gamora groaned.

“They called me ‘Star-Lord,’ that wasn’t just my imagination was it?”

“No!” she snapped. She was considering leaving him, but only for a second.

He kept checking his ‘battle’ scars all the way to the ship. Gamora had planned on helping to dress Peter’s minor cuts. But when he removed his shirt and looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, flexing and practicing lines like, “Hey, if you all line up, you can get a picture  _and_  an autograph,” she nearly tossed the medical box at his feet, then stormed away.

He called out to her, but she ignored him. She slammed her bedroom door shut and locked it, then went to her bed.

She had to lie on her stomach to pull out the binoculars, and blew the dust off them.

Staring at them, Gamora knew she should have tossed them when Rocket first offered them to her.

But, even just  _thinking_  about Peter’s admirers, and his eventual enthusiasm toward them, made Gamora hold onto them later. Just in case.

 

\-------

 

She was watching him again through the device, when Peter got up from the table at the loudest bar in the universe, to go to the bathroom.

Though the binoculars gave her a laser focus, she lost him in the crowd. She directed her attention back to the Guardians’ table, where everyone else was sitting and talking; then, after a minute of watching Rocket pull Groot out of Mantis’s glass as she slept on the table, she moved the binoculars back toward the throng surrounding the circular bar, and the bathroom toward the back.

Where  _was_  he?

“See anyone you like?”

She turned around, automatically drawing her sword, and gasped.

“Peter!” she said, her face growing very hot, very fast. She dropped the binoculars, but caught them before they hit the ground. Then she withdrew her sword from Peter, holstering it.

He blinked, lowered his hands, then shook his head. “Gotta say, I didn't peg you for the stalking type.”

“How did you know I was here?” Gamora asked, too embarrassed to be angry at him sneaking up on her. “Did someone tell you? It was Rocket, right?”

“What? No, I just noticed you were watching me, and that it started about a week ago.”

So he only noticed after the fifth time. Gamora would never admit it, but she felt a little relieved. She had started to get worried that she was losing her touch.

As if he could read her mind, Peter peered at her suspiciously. “It...  _was_  just a week ago, wasn't it?”

Gamora opened her mouth, then closed it, shaking her head. She went outside, to one of the private balconies, and Peter followed her.

“Leave,” she snapped at a necking couple. They took one look at her, and nearly tripped over themselves running past her and Peter through the sheer curtain that hung over the balcony’s entrance.

“Seems like we always end up here, don’t we?” Peter asked, walking slowly over toward the edge and resting his hands on the smooth stone barrier.

Gamora nodded, joining him over at the edge, but not following his line of sight out toward the star-strewn night sky.

He was silent for a few moments, then asked, “Any reason why you felt like you couldn't come over and hang out with us? You know we all want you to come.”

She tensed. “I was.... worried.”

"Worried, about us? Pshh, you don't need to be. If anyone even thought about fighting us, Drax would snap 'em into pieces. And i've still got my blasters.”

“That's not it,” Gamora said, unable to meet Peter’s eyes, his trusting open face. She figured he would never trust her again, so she might as well tell the truth. “I.... thought you might be sneaking away with other women when I wasn’t around.”

For a moment, Peter didn't say anything. Gamora looked down, at the empty alleyway. He was quiet for so long, she thought he left.

“Why did you think I'd ever do something so unbelievably boneheaded as that?” he asked, softly, and she turned to look at him, surprised he stayed. “When we’re... y'know.”

She shook her head. “That's just it, Peter. I  _know_  where we are. But I also know you have... urges. And I'm not ready to indulge them now. So I thought you would…” she sighed, then whispered, “take care of that elsewhere.”

“Hey,” he said, "don't even worry about my...  _urges_. Okay, so it's been a while since I got any action, other than, well….” He looked at his hand, and Gamora looked down at it, then she looked away awkwardly as he hastily continued, “but to be honest, I'm... kinda not really thinking about that all the time. Not when we're running for our lives and when I'm still trying to process everything about. You know."

“Right. Of course, I'm so foolish. I didn't even consider...” Gamora said, and Peter slowly, tentatively, took her hands in his. He met her eyes again, as if asking for permission and she nodded.

He pulled her in close for a hug, giving her enough space to back out. She wrapped her arms around him, and he rested his cheek against her hair.

“This here, right now?” he murmured, “is  _way_ better than a drunk one night stand I'd probably be having on my ship if I didn't meet you. I mean, do I kinda miss it, in general? Yeah.”

Gamora’s breath hitched as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“But it doesn't mean anything if it's not with you,” he said, and she tightened her grip on him.

“I'm sorry, Peter. I violated your trust. All because mine was wavering.”

“Well, I didn’t have to be a dumbass and make such a big deal about getting recognized. Those girls probably just wanted to steal my shit.”

Although Gamora appreciated his hidden apology, she couldn’t help but feeling sad. “I understand if you don't want to continue things between us.”

"Woah, what's this?" he started stroking her hair. "I wish you would've talked to me, but I know you're going through stuff too. And I admit, it  _is_  kinda hot, knowing my deadly assassin girlfriend is keeping a lookout for me."

“No more stalking.” Gamora said. She broke away from his embrace for a second to fling the binoculars over the edge, and heard them shatter on the pavement below. She  wrapped both her arms around Peter, resting her head on his shoulder. “From now on, more talking.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said, and they held each other for what felt like the rest of the night.


End file.
